


Inclined to Behave

by Hope_Void_Enby



Category: Supernatural
Genre: BDSM, Demons, Dom/sub, Gabriel is there, Graphic, Kinky, M/M, Supernatural - Freeform, Torture, Violence, canon for the first lil bit, canon-typical violence though, i can see you judging me, im sorry, noncon, really really kinky
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-12
Updated: 2020-01-12
Packaged: 2021-02-27 16:00:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,687
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22219705
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hope_Void_Enby/pseuds/Hope_Void_Enby
Summary: Arthur was a smart man, always one step ahead of the world. Ready for every twist and turn. So what exactly was it about Asmodeus that eluded him so? Was it the threat so thinly veiled behind his southern accent? The polite charm in his voice whenever he wanted something? Perhaps it would have been best had he not shown for this latest meeting- or maybe he should have left after walking in on Asmodeus shooting archangel grace into his veins. The what ifs weren’t important now, he supposed.
Relationships: Asmodeus/Arthur Ketch
Comments: 3
Kudos: 8





	Inclined to Behave

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is the kind of thing I use to cope with my own traumas- if this is something can can trigger you then please be safe and put yourself first <3 Obviously I don't condone any of the actions taken in the fic and I would castrate the dude myself if it ever came to be irl.

“But that’s not why I called you here.” Asmodeus drawled, one leg resting over the other. He sat in a position that tried to show how dominant he was, but to Arthur it just felt like he was desperately trying to fill in the throne. Like a child wearing their mother’s high heels. “You see,” he shifted in his spot, moving so that both feet were on the ground. “I don’t believe you understand the nature of our relationship.” Ketch hesitated to respond, looking down at the ground for a moment to contemplate what exactly the prince of hell had meant.  
“Simple,” he started, surprised his voice didn’t waver. He had never been one to show fear- something the smooth talking country boy had found interesting in the beginning. Perhaps that had not been a good thing. “You pay me, I do what needs to be done- end of transaction.” He met Asmodeus’ gaze for a brief moment, something within those eyes striking him with the sort of feeling he didn’t want to admit. The man clad in white sighed, shaking his head in what seemed like amusement.  
“Yeah, see…” He stroked his beard thoughtfully, a habit of his apparently, “no.” There was silence between them for a moment, the prince of hell dragging it out as he stared him down. “It’s more like…” What had at first been confusion turned to fear as he drawled on, “I own you.”

“You don’t-” He huffed out a laugh, tilting his head a bit as though to shake it. But Asmodeus interrupted him.  
“And it’s time you get in line, boy.” He turned his head, watching very carefully what the freelancer would do. He swallowed heavily, trying not to let the fear welling show.  
“Well, if that’s how you feel.” He adjusted his stance, standing a bit taller. “Then I believe I’m done, here.” The other man still lounged in his throne, though his expression had shifted into frustration and anger. “Good day, sir.” Ketch gave a small nod and turned to leave- only to once more come face to face with Asmodeus. He swallowed, jaw working as he let out a breath that resemble the beginning of a chuckle, and held his own as the demon prince of hell stepped closer to him. He was shorter, making it a bit harder for him to intimidate Arthur- despite his power.  
“You’re done when I say your done.” He said in a low voice, a dark tone to it. Before the ex-men of letters associate could respond, Asmodeus was already slamming his fist into his stomach. The breath was forced out of him, a groan working its way out of his throat when the demon back handed him, causing him to stumble back. He turned to retaliate but there was already a fist being swung, this time striking him across the cheek and definitely cracking bone. He was thrown to the floor by the blow, spitting up blood and attempting to pull himself up or get away, he wasn’t really sure which as his legs moved.

He’d only just managed to get a knee up when he felt Asmodeus’ influence settle over him, a sharp tug of demonic force freezing him in place as though a knee had been pressed to his back. He was forced to remain in place, breathing heavy, as the prince of hell circled around to face him.  
“You’re gonna learn, son.” He growled, taking a step forward. “You do what I say-” His fist slammed into Arthur’s face, forcing him to twist on his knees and fall onto his stomach. He heard the muffled groan of the archangel only a few feet away, concern in his features as he clung to the bars, but the sound seemed miles away as the toe of Asmodeus’ boot crashed into his temple. “When I say it.” He was off the floor for a moment with how hard it was, landing heavily and spitting up more blood. He pulled himself up just barely in time for a pair of hands to wrap around the back of his suit jacket, forcing him to slam his head against one of the stone support pillars. He bounced off it, his vision swimming and head pounding as he was allowed a seconds rest to lay on the floor. He forced himself to get up, supporting himself on his elbows as he looked up at the demon. He wasn’t sure if the red in his eyes was from anger or the blood drenching his face, but either way he couldn’t see much other than the blurry figure standing above him to monologue again. “And if you ever even think of sassing me again,” suddenly he wasn’t on the ground, at least six feet up- just to be slammed down again. 

Ketch hit the ground with a gurgle, trying to get words out through swollen lips and a blood-filled mouth. He barely heard whatever else the man standing over him had said, and couldn’t understand why he was suddenly so close again. He was rolled onto his back, eyes rolling in his head as he struggled to even keep them open.  
“You are the first in a very long line o’ people below me to actively rebel.” It feels like he’d come to in the middle of the speech. There was another long moment of the ringing in his ears too loud to hear anything and his vision fogging too much to read his lips. It wasn’t until cool air rushed over his chest that he was able to regain some sort of brain function, face twisted in a grimace as he forced himself to stay awake. “It’s time someone taught you a lesson in the more..gentlemanly ways.” Asmodeus gave Arthur’s now bare stomach a pat, leaning back to look around the room. He got up with a grunt of effort, walking over to slide a blade off one of the non-broken tables. Gabriel whimpered quietly and the prince of hell turned to give him a look, a sadistic smile curling across his lips. “Don’t you worry now, you’ll get your turn.” He chuckled as the angel shook his head briskly, scrambling away from the bars. Ketch began to try and pull himself up, made increasingly aware of his bruised and broken state as the effort became more and more futile. Soon Asmodeus was leant over him, shaking his head with a tisk. 

“Already trynna get away? The fun ain’t even begun yet.” He stood and shoved Ketch onto his back again with his foot, pausing as though savouring the moment before standing over him so he could straddle Arthur’s hips when he knelt down again. He sat over him and pulled his tie off, shrugging the white vest stained with Arthur’s life blood off his shoulders and tossing it aside. “It’s already ruined anyway.” He explained as the free lancer’s gaze followed it across the room, as if any of this could make any sense. Just like that, Asmodeus was shirtless and on top of him, body looking as though it were carved of stone. Countless small scars covered his chest, salt and pepper hairs sprinkle over his pectorals and leading down below his pantline. He tried to move his arms, rub his face of blood and see if any of this was actually happening, but they were pinned beneath the country boy’s thighs. He couldn’t feel it in him to struggle, his whole body already aching- from the pounding headache to the throbbing pain in his chest- but he couldn’t help but wonder if it was partially due to how attractive he found the other man. It didn’t matter. Either way, the fourth prince of hell was already moving to undo Ketch’s belt and slipping it off of him, using it instead to tie his wrists together then pinning them above his head. This close, Arthur could feel the prince’s breath against his face, the warmth still incredibly cool compared to the burning he felt from the swollen injuries. Then there were lips pressed to the corner of his mouth, kisses trailing down his jaw and along his neck.

Ketch swallowed harshly, finally regaining feeling in his limbs and enough control to begin his struggle. The rumble of Asmodeus’ laugh against his chest sent a tingling sensation down his spine, making him shiver beneath him.  
“Asmodeus-” He managed around his split lip, the swelling reduced somewhat. “What on earth-” He didn’t need to finish the question. He knew. Arthur was a smart man, always one step ahead of the world. Ready for every twist and turn. So what exactly was it about Asmodeus that eluded him so? Was it the threat so thinly veiled behind his southern accent? The polite charm in his voice whenever he wanted something? Perhaps it would have been best had he not shown for this latest meeting- or maybe he should have left after walking in on Asmodeus shooting archangel grace into his veins. The what ifs weren’t important now, he supposed. What felt the most important right now was the fact that a demon- a prince of hell- was undoing his pants and sliding his hand between the leftover fabric and the skin beneath it. He cried out as the other man’s hand closed around his cock, bucking his hips involuntarily at the sudden motion. This earned another chuckle, the grip only tightening as he began a slow and rhythmic pumping. “S-stop!” He cried, scowling at the way his own voice wavered, how weak he must seem. He bit back a slew of curses as Asmodeus looking up at him with narrowed eyes, as though he could glare him into submission. It wasn’t necessary. Ketch was already trembling beneath him. He desperately looked for some way out, spotting the archangel trembling behind bars not far off. It was so obvious he was trying not to hear them, trying not to watch. 

He cursed, what little pleasure that’d reached his senses quickly replaced with searing pain as the demon on top of him let go of his wrists in favour of dragging a knife over his thighs. Ketch’s skin rose in goosebumps as cold blood dripped onto the floor, drawing a whimper from him and another low laugh from Asmodeus.  
“See?” He laughed, placing the blade next to him after slicing through the fabric of Ketch’s pants and boxers. He suddenly realized just how exposed he was, bare skin pressed against surprisingly warm stone. Then, Asmodeus stood back over Arthur, clean white boot hovering just above his exposed member. “Now then.” He pressed down, the black-haired man beneath him arching his back against it and clenching his teeth. He brought his arms down from above him to cover his eyes, biting back a cry of pain. He couldn’t show that level of weakness- especially not here. The boot remained there while the demon undid his belt, taking his time as he watched Ketch struggle and squirm below him. A breath escaped him as the pressure on his dick let up, the sound of the demon moving drawing his attention. When he looked up, Asmodeus was standing a few feet away, pants undone and his own member pulled out. Arthur sucked in a breath, his heart in his throat as the sickening feeling set further in. He was hoping it wouldn’t end where he knew it would. “Up.” Asmodeus commanded, and the taller man couldn’t refuse. Not when he was so vulnerable. His member throbbed painfully as he struggled to his feet, tugging experimentally at the belt tied around his wrists to distract from the sensations. “Come, here.” 

Arthur let out a breath as he walked, hands curled in white-knuckled fists. He stopped in front of the prince, raising his eyes to meet the other man’s smugness with an indignant glare.  
“Good boy~” Asmodeus purred, reaching forward to smooth Ketch’s hair back and away from his face. “Now,” He dropped his head to stare down at him, eyes flashing that dangerous sulphuric colour, “kneel.”  
He wasn’t given a choice, gravity suddenly ten times stronger as the demon before him waved his hand. Merely inches away from Asmodeus’ already twitching cock, the horror finally settle in. The realization that this man would take every single ounce of dignity he had left- that he could do nothing but sit there and take what was coming- shook him to the core. This is not how he was expecting things would end up when he struck that bargain. This isn’t where he wanted to be right now. “Good, good.” Ketch bared his teeth in a snarl as his head was tugged roughly back by his hair, forced to stare up at his captor. He tried to ignore the sheen of sweat reflecting light off the dick currently being rubbed on his cheek. Tried to ignore the throbbing pain all over his body. Tried to ignore how the prince of hell hardened when he pulled away with Ketch’s blood slathered along the side of his member. He shut his eyes, breathing through his nose despite the stench of sulphur that hung heavy this close to a demon. It earned him a slap in the face, the grip on his hair loosening for just a moment as the sting set in. “Now, open wide.” He said it so casually. As if he hadn’t just beaten the man in front of him half death, or tortured an archangel for years on end. Nevertheless, Arthur refused. His mouth remained shut as he glared defiantly up.

Asmodeus tisked, moving his free hand to grip Ketch’s chin between his forefinger and his thumb. He pressed down and Arthur let out a howl of pain, feeling as though his jaw would break if pressed any further. The demon prince didn’t hesitate to take advantage of the scream, shoving his fingers into Ketch’s mouth and holding it open with ease.  
“Now, I don’ like gettin’ my hands dirty but if you don’t comply, there will be consequences.” He chided, stroking the inside of Arthur’s cheek and gliding his thumb over the other man’s tongue. That was all he bothered to say before replacing his fingers with his cock. The first thing that hit him was just how full his mouth felt- he would have remarked something regarding a childhood game of ‘chubby bunny,’ if he found anything about this situation at all amusing. The second was the smell. Being forced to breath through his nose brought up the distinct stench of sulphur. Lastly, the taste. Sweat and blood. His blood. It was enough to make him gag without the hand that was now pressed to the back of his head, pulling him closer. He made a noise between a grunt and a gag as the head of Asmodeus’ cock was pushed against the back of his throat, his hands coming up in a futile attempt to push him away. Even with his palms pressed flush against the prince’s thighs he was unable to, jaw already aching. His fingers curled as his face reddened, lack of oxygen speeding his heart rate and making his vision blurry with tears. The demon prince of hell let out a satisfied groan and his fingers curled further into Arthur’s hair, tugging at the roots with enough force to rip skin. This drew another sharp grunt from Ketch and he was finally allowed to draw back enough to suck in a breath.

Arthur coughed, hacking up blood and flem with his head turned off to the side. Anything to get away from the smell. He needed to escape. Get out of here. Breathe. Asmodeus didn’t give him that opportunity. As Ketch leaned back to blearily blink the tears from his eyes the demon’s fingers curled around his throat and lifted him off his knees, lazily stroking his cock with his other hand. Ketch snarled, barring his teeth even as the pressure around his throat tightened and the prince snapped his fingers and the two of them appeared in a bedroom, rather than remain where they'd been.


End file.
